Like, a Burglar Alarm?
by angstkitten
Summary: When Brittany didn't understand what Burt meant by 'using protection', Kurt worries just how safe his friend has been being in her multiple sexual escapades. -Glee doesn't belong to me nor shall it ever.-
1. Like, a Burglar Alarm?

"Well, if things get serious, be sure to use protection," his dad said, looking uncomfortable as he made his way back up the stairs.

Kurt smiled weakly with a nod, then turned back to Brittany as the door closed. He was about to make his way over to her when she asked, "Does he mean, like, a burglar alarm?"

Kurt froze for just a moment. Sometimes Brittany said things that didn't make sense. Things about her cat reading her diary and the relationship between dolphins and sharks being about differences in sexuality. Things like the square root of four being rainbows.

Sometimes she said really insightful things. Things like how Artie was hurting while he and Tina weren't talking and how Puck cared about Quinn. Things full of sympathy and compassion.

Sometimes she said things that made her sound utterly stupid. Things like not remembering how to leave a classroom or forgetting her middle name. Things like not knowing how cruel and vindictive Sue Sylvester was about Glee Club.

And sometimes she said things that were terrifying. Things like this.

Swallowing, Kurt walked back over to the couch. "I think he meant something more like a _condom_, Britt."

"Oh," she said with a smile and nod. Sighing, Kurt sat down. He was relieved she'd gotten it, because if she didn't know about safe sex— "But wouldn't a burglar alarm be good to put in a condom?"

_Oh sweet Versace._

"Brittany, you know what a condom is, right?"

"Well, yeah. It's a kind of house, isn't it?"

Kurt felt his stomach drop out. _No._ "Britt, I think you're thinking of a cond_o_."

"Oh! Oops. It's a bird, then. Like a vulture?"

Kurt shook his head, his heart hurting with every beat. "No, Britt. That's a con_dor_."

"Oh." Now her face was looking crestfallen. She couldn't think of another definition. _Oh dear, merciful higher being, what and whomever you might be._ "Then what's a condom?"

Kurt covered his face for a moment, thinking. How could she _not know_? Brittany had said herself that she'd made out with almost everyone in the school, and he knew she must have had sex with most of them, or at least a lot. Her continued innocence was, at times, unnerving, but to think that she hadn't been being safe simply because she didn't _understand_ the need to be…

He thought he might be sick.

Suddenly he felt incredibly uncomfortable in these clothes. This stupid plan to get his dad's attention obviously wasn't working as well as he'd hoped, and he couldn't keep acting. Couldn't keep pretending. Not with Brittany, a friend, sitting here, waiting for him to explain what a condom was and why he thought she should go to a doctor and what he thought she needed checked for and…

He actually had to swallow done some bile that time. Blinking heavily, he turned to her.

"Britt, a condom is something you use during sex. To protect yourself."

Brittany's eyebrows bunched together and she frowned in concentration. "Like armor? I've seen a movie where a girl was wearing metal panties. Like that?"

"No, Brittany. That's a chastity belt, and it's to stop a girl from having sex at all. Boys wear condoms." She just stared at him with her wide eyes. He could see that her root beer lip gloss was smudged, a little on her cheek. He licked his lips and found the flavor still there. "It's a piece of latex that he puts on his penis, Britt." He felt his face begin to flame, but he grabbed her hands in his, begging her to listen and understand. "To keep you safe from diseases and getting pregnant."

Brittany blinked her eyes, taking in the information, but Kurt couldn't see any sign of recognition in her gaze.

"Britt, I know you've had sex plenty, but have you been safe before?"

"Well, yeah," she said with a shrug. "I never have sex with somebody without knowing them for at least a few days, and I don't let them hurt me or anything, and we always do it in places I know or am comfortable with. And Santana is there some of the time, and I know she'd take care of me!" Brittany was smiling again.

"Are you on the pill, Britt?"

She blinked, frowning. "What pill?"

"The birth control pill."

"Oh. I'm not sure. Santana shares some of her meds with me, you should ask her."

"Do any of them come in a circular case? Maybe pink or blue pills?"

"Oh yeah!" She nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, Santana shares those with me every day."

Kurt sighed in relief. _At least there's that…_ But that didn't mean she was safe. The pill didn't help with disease, wasn't a hundred percent effective, and maybe Brittany shouldn't have even been on it. It was prescribed to Santana, not her.

"But, you've never used condoms before, Brittany?" She shook her head.

"Should I be?"

"Yeah, Britt. It's really important to use them."

"Oh."

"Listen, why don't we go out for a little while?"

"You don't want to keep making out?" She sounded so sad. It stung, but the thought that she might feel she wasn't good for anything else passed through his mind. He had never been more repulsed at the thought of making out with someone than he was right then.

Not because she might be sick, but because he didn't want to be one more man compounding negativity onto her self-value.

"Not now." He took her hand and led her upstairs. He shouted to his dad that they were leaving, and took her to his dad's truck. Having the Navigator confiscated after Mercedes bashed the window (though his dad claimed it was for totally unrelated reasons) had left Kurt without a car, but he still had a set to his dad's ride for emergencies.

Kurt would argue his case later if he had to.

First, he drove them to the other side of town and into the parking lot of an anonymity-friendly clinic.

"What are we doing here, Kurtie?"

Kurt took her hand, lacing their fingers together as they walked in. "I want you to get checked out, okay? Then we'll go out to dinner. Breadstix, my treat." Brittany grinned and nodded happily. Kurt pulled her to the check-in window and quietly explained to the receptionist.

Fifteen minutes later, they were being led back to an exam room. A nurse took the basics and asked some questions. When Brittany got confused or seemed uncertain, Kurt prompted her along to understand and figure out as many of the answers as she could. The doctor asked if Kurt was Brittany's boyfriend when he came in, and she giggled.

"No, Kurt's Capital-G Gay. Or he was. Then he wasn't. But now I think he is again. He really needs to make up his mind." Kurt smiled. She really was sweet. If he weren't so Capital-G Gay, he would have been happy to be her boyfriend.

The doctor took a blood sample from Brittany and Kurt left his cell phone number as a contact when the tests were done. A few visual tests were done as well, and Kurt held Brittany's hand throughout, determinedly _not_ looking where the doctor was looking. The doctor assured them that there was nothing visibly wrong, and the blood tests would be back in a few days.

Kurt thanked her, split the fifty dollar bill with Brittany, and then drove them to Breadstix.

They ate dinner in a pleasant peace, the game of footsy under the table playful and platonic. After eating, Kurt took her to the local convenience store and showed her the condoms. Her look of awe confirmed everything that their conversation earlier had said. She had no idea what a condom was. He helped her pick some out, bought them for her, and then they sat in the truck with a banana and a cucumber and practiced putting them on while he explained again the importance of safety.

When Kurt dropped Brittany off at home, she smiled and kissed his cheek, at the corner of his mouth. "Thank you, Kurtie, for everything. You're the best boy ever."

Then she skipped up the sidewalk and into her home, leaving Kurt staring after her, wishing, not for the first time but finally for a reason for _himself_, that he was straight so he could wear her on his arm.

Because she was perfect, in her own strange, sweet, bewildering way.


	2. Cross Our Fingers and Wish

A/N: I would like to thank EVERYONE who read, reviewed, faved, and alerted this fic. Originally it was a one-shot, but more was requested, and I found myself wanting more as well. Then it kind of exploded on me. I have no idea where it's really going, the chapters are short, but I've got three done so far. So here's the next one. Enjoy.

* * *

He was actually in class when the call came.

His cell had been on vibrate rather than silent for three days, anxiously awaiting the call. When it buzzed in his hand under the desk, he immediately glanced at it before shooting his hand into the air and calling out, "Mr. Schue, may I please be excused?"

Schue let him go with a nod, and Kurt went as quickly as he could. As soon as the door closed behind him, he was saying "Hello?" into the phone.

"Mr. Hummel?"

"Yes."

"This is Patricia with the Allen County Health Partners."

"Yes. Have her tests come in?"

"Miss Pierce's?"

"Yes!" Kurt was becoming frustrated with himself for saying 'yes' so many times, but he was worried for his friend and wanted to know what had happened.

"The results are in, and most everything seems fine. However, some things take time to develop, so she should be brought back in next month for some repeated tests."

"Like what?"

"Well, most notable would be HIV…" The nurse or doctor or receptionist, Kurt really didn't know which she was, went on, but those three letters had ground his mind to a stop and he was terrified. "Mr. Hummel? Mr. Hummel?" Kurt snapped out of it as he heard his name.

"Sorry. Bring her back next month?"

"Yes."

"Nothing was positive this time around?"

"Correct. Just make sure she's more careful in the future and get her in for another testing in a few weeks."

"Yes, thank you. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome, Mr. Hummel."

Hanging up, he wasn't sure whether to whoop in joy that, for now, Brittany was safe or start bawling because she was only safe _for now_. In four or six weeks, that could all be proven wrong. She could be dying without knowing it.

Brittany was too sweet for that. Too precious. Too perfect.

When the bell rang, he realized he'd been standing there for much too long. He strode back down the hall to his classroom and hurried about gathering his things.

"Kurt! Got a minute?"

"Sure, Mr. Schue," he said with a silent sigh.

"Kurt, do you realize you were gone for over twenty minutes?" Mr. Schuester asked, glancing over the papers on his desk.

"No. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so long."

"I'm just wondering if you're okay, that's—" He stopped mid-sentence as he looked up. "Kurt, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Kurt, you're crying." The Spanish teacher handed him a tissue. "What happened?"

Kurt wiped hurriedly at the tears trailing his face. He was shocked. He hadn't noticed at all. "Nothing, Mr. Schue."

"Kurt, you know you can talk to me or Ms. Pillsbury if something's going on."

"Mr. Schue, as much as I appreciate your attempts to help, there's nothing to be done. It's all about waiting now."

"What is?"

Kurt just shook his head, smiled, and left.

As he slid into his seat in his next class, he tugged on Brittany's sleeve. "Hey gorgeous," he teased.

"Hey Kurtie!" she said, smiling.

He leaned closer, glancing about before whispering conspiratorially, "Guess who I just got a call from?"

"James Bond?" she asked seriously.

"No, but I _wish_," Kurt said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh. I thought maybe, since we're being so quiet…"

"No, the doctor I took you to called."

She blinked for a moment before nodding. "From the night you took me to Breadstix and bought me condoms."

"Yes, that one."

"So what happened? Am I sick? I don't _feel_ sick."

"They said everything looks fine, but they want to run a few tests again in a month or so."

"Didn't I pass them?"

"You did, but some of these diseases are sneaky and can make it look like you're okay for a while. They just want to be sure there's really nothing there."

"Like when I had to retake that test I copied from Quinn to prove I actually did it."

"Right."

"But Kurt…"

"What?" Her eyebrows were furrowed and she was frowning. She looked a little scared.

"I didn't pass the second time, because Quinn wouldn't let me copy again. What if that happens this time?"

Kurt hugged her. "If anything is wrong, I'll be right there with you. I'll support you as much as you want and need, and so will the rest of Glee. You'll see. But let's just cross our fingers and wish that you'll be fine, okay?"

"Okay," Brittany agreed. They crossed their fingers, closed their eyes, and wished until class started. And for the rest of the day, Kurt caught her doing it again, and he would join in, because she could use all the wishing she could get.

Even if Kurt didn't believe there was anyone or anything to hear them wishing with everything they had.


	3. You Deserve So Much Better

Finding Brittany crying in the boys' bathroom was a strange and unnerving predicament. Stepping up to her cautiously, Kurt held out his hand.

"Britt? What's wrong?"

Brittany just kept crying.

"Brittany, please."

She stared up at him, eyes watery. "Huh?"

"What happened?" Brittany sniffled.

"I don't r-remember…" she moaned.

"That's okay," he whispered, kneeling on the grimy floor, pushing the thought of the gross away almost physically as he wrapped his arms around her. "That's okay…"

She started to rock, and he moved with her, murmuring quietly to her. When she had calmed, it was rather sudden. She stopped moving, sniffled a final time, then wiped her eyes and smiled up at him.

"Thank you."

"Anytime. Feel better?"

"Yeah," she answered with a nod.

"Remember what happened?"

"No…" she said with a frown.

"That's okay. It's almost time for Glee, are you excited?"

"Yeah! I asked Santana to—" She stopped as her eyes watered again.

"Asked Santana what?"

Brittany sniffed again. "I asked her to help me with a song, but she didn't want to sing with me. And then one of the boys on the hockey team called me a name, and she didn't even say anything."

"What did he call you?"

"A slut. And another boy called me a dyke. And Santana just stood there." Brittany was starting to cry again. "When I said I wasn't, she said…she said…" Kurt hugged her again.

"Oh, Britt. It's gonna be okay."

"No it's not! Kurt, I'm a slut and a dyke! What am I supposed to do?"

"No you aren't, Brittany."

"Santana said I _was_!"

Kurt didn't know what to do. He had seen the way the girls linked pinkies in the halls. He'd seen how Brittany always turned to Santana for direction. He'd come to recognize the look in the blonde's eyes as similar to the one in his own when directed at Finn sometimes (though he was coming to be over it, because really, that boy was just too dumb sometimes…). And he knew that if Finn had ever said something like that, had called _him_ a slut or a fag, it would hurt so badly that he would have been found sobbing in the bathroom, too.

He kissed her forehead. "Santana is a bitch, sweetie."

"No she isn't! She just wants to be honest with people, to not have to hold back how she feels! When she says something she _means_ it, and she thinks I'm a slut!" Now she was crying in earnest, gasping to breathe around her tears.

"But she's wrong," he whispered into her hair. "She's so wrong. _She's_ a slut. She's been helping you, and she hasn't done a good enough job."

"B-b-but I l-l-l…" Brittany trailed off, but he knew what she was trying to say. And it broke his heart to see a friend so deeply in love with someone that just wanted sex. Someone that would _use_ that love to get what they wanted. It wasn't fair.

"You deserve so much better…"

"How c-can I if-f I'm j-j-just a sl-slu-ut?"

"You _aren't_ just a slut, Britt. You are a magnificent, beautiful person, and you deserve someone that can see that. And Santana just isn't that person right now."

They stayed in the bathroom for another half an hour, until she calmed down again. Only one person had come in, a freshman even smaller than Kurt, and he had backed out immediately after one glance of the glare Kurt set on him.

"Do you want to go home?"

"Yes, please."

"Sure thing."

They skipped Glee that afternoon, and he walked her home. When she invited him in, he found six missed calls and a dozen texts on his cell phone. Glancing over them, he rolled his eyes and deleted the messages, all from Glee Clubbers looking for him. He then turned it off and focused on spending the afternoon with Brittany.

They spent the day baking and watching Disney movies and singing along. Kurt called home to let his dad know he'd be staying at the Pierce's for dinner, and he had a great time just getting closer to Brittany than he already was.

He knew she'd make somebody very happy someday, even if right now she only wanted to make Santana happy. Which would be fine, if only Santana wanted to make _her_ happy, as well.

The worst part was that, the next morning, he saw them walking together, pinkies entwined, like nothing had happened. And while some might think they'd made up, he knew that Santana would never apologize for…anything, if she even realized she'd upset the blonde, and that Brittany would take a smile to mean everything was okay again.

And it pissed him off.


	4. I Thought She Did

Days passed, then weeks.

Finn and Carole moved in and then back out after Finn's colossal fit over the basement. He had been right. The word fag from Finn was crushing.

What made it worse was the fact that his dad heard it. That he'd come to Kurt's defense. He knew it was a show of support, of choosing family over self, but it just hurt. It made him feel weak and useless.

He called Brittany that night and she made soft, soothing noises on the other end while he cried to her.

Even Finn stopping Karofsky and Azimio, in a rubber dress no less, didn't fix everything. How was that supposed to just magically heal it all?

But Brittany kissing his cheek at the end of the day before skipping off to link pinkies with Santana, either ignoring or oblivious to the glare the Latina was sending them, helped. Maybe it didn't make it perfect, but it helped.

Then they were destroyed at Regionals, and Quinn had the baby. It was exciting and depressing at the same time.

When Brittany found out Beth had been given away, she frowned, teary eyed.

"I thought we were all going to be aunts and uncles," she said softly.

"Brittany, only the brothers and sisters of the parents are aunts and uncles," Tina replied.

"Oh. But…" She trailed off, staring out the bus window. When everyone else was busy in conversation again, she muttered, "I thought we were a family…"

Kurt reached over the seat to take her hand and smiled. "We are, Britt. We are." She smiled back, and then they were talking about what they would do now that Glee was going to be canceled. It wasn't fair.

But then they were granted another year. No one really knew why or how, but they were going to celebrate the chance.

A week after school ended, Kurt took Brittany back to the clinic for more testing. They did it once more over the summer. Now three times she had come back okay, and doctor wanted to see her again in November.

Most surprisingly, at her second visit she had been asked to stop having sex for a few months. Brittany didn't know why; she'd explained that most boys didn't want her around unless they were having sex, and Kurt had seen the frown on the doctor's face.

Between the two of them, Brittany realized that the tests could be inaccurate if she kept having sex because she kept exposing herself.

"But I'm using the condoms, Kurtie!"

"I know, Britt, and I'm happy, but they can't do everything for you. Some things can get around them or they might break. Can you just stop for the summer?"

"Okay, Kurtie. I can do that. I never see anyone but Santana over the summer anyway." She had smiled so endearingly, and he grinned back.

When the school year started, she came up to Kurt after the first Cheerio practice. "Kurtie, do I still need to not have…" She paused, glancing around, before leaning closer and whispering, "Ess-Eee-Eks?"

Kurt barely contained the laugh. "Well, Britt, it would help with the tests, but it's your body and your decision. Just promise that if you do, you'll use the condoms, okay?"

"Okay!" She kissed his cheek again before trotting off to the locker rooms. Kurt shook his head after her.

He was surprised but privately pleased when Brittany stopped talking to Santana. When he asked her about it, she told him that Santana had said she was just using Brittany as a warm body. As a replacement for Puck.

That was finally the last straw for him.

Kurt cornered Santana after Glee practice that day, smiling and asking about help with a song. As soon as they were alone, however, his demeanor changed.

"I can't believe you."

"Excuse me, Ladyface?" she scoffed, glancing over her nails.

"No. Your behavior is _in_excusable."

Santana rolled her eyes. "What is it, now? Are you upset that I don't like your outfit today?"

"This has nothing to do with your irrelevant opinions on my masterful taste in clothes. This is about Brittany."

"God," she sighed with another eye-roll. Her head slumped over onto one shoulder. "What has she been saying?"

"You're a bitch. You realize that, don't you? I mean, I can't listen to a single thing out of your mouth without thinking 'what a bitch'."

"Is this going somewhere?"

"I just don't understand how you can treat her like you do. You know she adores you, idolizes you, loves—"

"Don't even _go_ there, gayboy," she hissed, her head shifting from side to side on her neck and one hand coming forward to snap her fingers. "You don't know _anything_."

"Oh please. She and I have been talking for months. We're close, and you're hurting her."

"How?"

"You told her she was a _warm body_, Santana!" he shouted, letting his bag drop to the choir room floor. "Didn't you think how that might make her feel?" The pinched look on her face was all he needed to know. "Are you deluded enough to think that Puck is your _one_?"

"No, but that doesn't make him any less _mine_."

"Santana, just because you're sleeping with someone doesn't mean you have ownership over them. And I've watched you treat Brittany _and_ Puck like possessions over the years. Neither one appreciates it."

Santana rolled her eyes again and turned to leave.

"I'm not finished here!"

"Well I am," Santana said with another head-bob then stormed towards the door. "So go lecture someone else."

"Do you realize she didn't know what condoms were?" he called after her. Santana froze and turned around.

"What?"

"Those two days she and I went out, my dad caught us kissing and told us to use protection."

"So?"

"And she didn't understand. I had to explain." Santana just stared at him. "How could you let her get the reputation she has without going over the _basics_, Santana?"

"I…"

"What, Santana? She said you were there sometimes, how could she _not know_?"

"I thought she did. When I was there, we always did. I had her on the pill. I told her not to let anyone push her around. I just… I didn't know she didn't know."

Kurt watched as she started to cry. It was surprising, because he hadn't seen her cry before. Not since the first grade when an older girl had pushed her down and scraped her knee. And that had been a totally different type of crying. Seven-year-old Santana had been screeching in Spanish, hitting the third grader, the tears flying from her face with each swing of her head, there from the moment of humiliation and pain before turning it all around.

Now it was just a single line of tears slipping down her left cheek, smudging her makeup a little.

"I didn't know." This simple sentence was emphasized by the loud bang of her textbooks falling from her arms.

Oddly, Kurt found himself feeling sympathetic for Santana. He had assumed she would have known, too.

"I took her to the Alan County Health Partners." Santana let out a sob, her right hand rising to cover her mouth. "She's been three times. They haven't found anything, and, as far as I know, she hasn't had sex since June. She has an appointment in November, and then they'll declare her safe."

"Oh God," she moaned. "I've gotta find her." Then Santana was bolting out of the room, her books lying in a pile on the floor.

Kurt gathered them up and headed towards his locker to get ready to go home. In the hall, Santana was holding tightly to Brittany, apologizing and kissing her face and apologizing again, still crying. Brittany was wide-eyed and uncertain, but when Kurt smiled at her, she smiled too and hugged Santana back. He gathered the books he needed to take home, then made his way to the girls.

"Santana?"

"What?" she demanded, wiping at her nose.

"You left your books." He held them out and she snatched them back.

Then she muttered, "Thanks," and he knew she meant for more than the books.


	5. This Monogamy Thing

Brittany and Santana looked be to growing closer than ever, walking more than pinkie-linked, but sometimes fully holding hands. Brittany was happier than she had been in a while and Kurt was glad for his friend.

When her November appointment came along, Santana insisted on going with them. Questions were directed at her that time, as one of Brittany's frequent partners.

When the doctor asked if the number of future hook-ups was likely to be as high as in the past, Kurt got a shock.

"No," the Latina insisted. "We're gonna try this monogamy thing."

Kurt couldn't help but laugh. He was happy, but it was so unexpected.

Then came the near-week of waiting for the final results. Brittany was worried the same way she always was when it came to tests. Santana seemed certain that since all the tests to-date had been good these would be too. Kurt just wasn't sure. Some things could hide for up to six months, which was why the clinic had had her come back so many times, to keep checking.

Brittany had gotten her own prescription of birth control, so they weren't sharing that anymore, which could only be a good thing.

A week after the appointment, Kurt's phone rang during Glee. They were in the middle of a number for Sectionals, and the music was loud enough to disguise the ringing. But Kurt had had one ear open for that ring-tone for days, so he immediately broke the choreography to answer.

At first everyone kept going, not really noticing his abandonment. But he heard Rachel shouting after him as he left the room, his throat drying as he answered.

Rather than the Jewish Diva Queen herself coming out to reprimand, it was Brittany and Santana that followed him a few moments later. He motioned them over, and all three held their ears to the phone.

Kurt took just a moment to smile at how ridiculous they must look, three people crowded around a cell phone, all trying to hear at once, holding their breath to limit excess noise.

And then the results were coming through, and they were all clinging and hugging and crying. Kurt's phone got dropped in the scuffle to hold and be held. After a moment, he picked it back up, muttering "Thank you," a few times before hanging up and kissing Brittany on the temple.

"I didn't pass?" she whispered, desperate to be sure what the results meant.

"No, baby," Santana gasped, hugging her tight. "Britt, negative is _good_. You _did_ pass."

"Really?" she asked, smiling. Santana and Kurt smiled back.

"Really."

The two Cheerios kissed through the tears and smiles, and then Brittany took one of Santana's and Kurt's hands in each of her own and led them back to practice, grinning.

* * *

A/N: That's it, folks. The end. I realize this really isn't the best of my writing ever, but I like it. I hope you enjoyed! And thank you to everyone who reviewed, faved, and alerted this fic. I think this has been my most successful one, having reached 600 hits in less than 24 hours. It was pretty much amazing. So thanks.~


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